ExAm
July 9th, 2007, 01:17 AM
So, my dad and I went to our local West Marine the other day, to buy some shock cord for a kayak he was fixing. We walk in, look at shock cord on rolls. I notice a couple of the employees are talking about something in lowered voices. Another employee proceeds to cut two lengths of shock cord for my dad. We go to the counter, and my dad goes back with the employee to look at more shock cord, for another purpose my dad had forgotten.
One of the employees I had seen comes up to me and points at one of the ice chests. "This is where we keep our dead bodies", he says, in a very condescending tone. I am not amused, but I humor him. He then says, "Fish bodies, of course. You throw them in through this handy little hatch." He laughs a little more than I would have liked, then leads me to an icebox full of squid and bait fish. He goes on to explain how humorous it is that there are nutrition facts and recipes on the backs of the squid containers. He's still speaking to me like I'm a child. I'm thinking that maybe he's gone insane. He then goes and grabs a blue milk crate with the West Marine logo on it. He says, "sometimes, people steal these. I don't know why, but they do. So, they put this message on the side." He points to a sentence printed on, which says, "This crate is the property of West Marine, and is stolen. Please contact your local authorities immediately." Something like that. He then says, "I want you to buy one of these, and take it home. Use it for something." I tell him no thanks, give him a funny look, and walk over to where my dad is.
He stops to look at GPS units, and the other employee who was talking with the one I had just talked to is helping him. I fiddle with one of the units, looking at features and such. My dad asks something about waterproofing, and I jokingly mention that he could use a ziploc bag to keep one dry. The employee, without missing a beat, says, "Like what you kids keep your pot in these days?".
I instantly realize why they're being so strange. I stayed up until 5 o'clock the previous night, and on that day, I was out of it. I appeared to be stoned out of my mind. I reply, "Excuse me? I'm drug free, sir. I don't appreciate your insult to my age group." He looks surprised, probably noticing his mistake, walks off, and takes up his position behind the cash register. His face is red. I'm laughing my head off inside.
I straighten up, and stop dragging my feet for the rest of the time i am there, helping my dad with such relatively dexterous tasks as putting a tent pole together with a brand new length of shock cord, right in front of the red-faced employee. He appears to be in great psychological pain. As I walk out of the store, the man behind the counter is talking with the employee I had talked with earlier, whose face suddenly loses its cheeky grin. By now, I can barely contain myself. I get in the driver's side of my dad's truck, (I have my permit) and make a perfect exit from the parking lot. I doubt they'll be messing with anyone any time soon.
One of the employees I had seen comes up to me and points at one of the ice chests. "This is where we keep our dead bodies", he says, in a very condescending tone. I am not amused, but I humor him. He then says, "Fish bodies, of course. You throw them in through this handy little hatch." He laughs a little more than I would have liked, then leads me to an icebox full of squid and bait fish. He goes on to explain how humorous it is that there are nutrition facts and recipes on the backs of the squid containers. He's still speaking to me like I'm a child. I'm thinking that maybe he's gone insane. He then goes and grabs a blue milk crate with the West Marine logo on it. He says, "sometimes, people steal these. I don't know why, but they do. So, they put this message on the side." He points to a sentence printed on, which says, "This crate is the property of West Marine, and is stolen. Please contact your local authorities immediately." Something like that. He then says, "I want you to buy one of these, and take it home. Use it for something." I tell him no thanks, give him a funny look, and walk over to where my dad is.
He stops to look at GPS units, and the other employee who was talking with the one I had just talked to is helping him. I fiddle with one of the units, looking at features and such. My dad asks something about waterproofing, and I jokingly mention that he could use a ziploc bag to keep one dry. The employee, without missing a beat, says, "Like what you kids keep your pot in these days?".
I instantly realize why they're being so strange. I stayed up until 5 o'clock the previous night, and on that day, I was out of it. I appeared to be stoned out of my mind. I reply, "Excuse me? I'm drug free, sir. I don't appreciate your insult to my age group." He looks surprised, probably noticing his mistake, walks off, and takes up his position behind the cash register. His face is red. I'm laughing my head off inside.
I straighten up, and stop dragging my feet for the rest of the time i am there, helping my dad with such relatively dexterous tasks as putting a tent pole together with a brand new length of shock cord, right in front of the red-faced employee. He appears to be in great psychological pain. As I walk out of the store, the man behind the counter is talking with the employee I had talked with earlier, whose face suddenly loses its cheeky grin. By now, I can barely contain myself. I get in the driver's side of my dad's truck, (I have my permit) and make a perfect exit from the parking lot. I doubt they'll be messing with anyone any time soon.